Our Gentle Moment
by Eschatona
Summary: "So if they had decided to torture me for information, would you have done it?" It's the king of stupid question that only Dazai would ask. The discussion it sparks turns out to be softer than Chuuya could have ever expected. - I just wanted to write the idiots having a nice conversation and being vaguely happy. So I did.


"So if they had decided to torture me for information, would you have done it?"

Chuuya froze where he'd been thinly slicing potatoes, carefully placing the knife down as he realised exactly what - _when_ \- Dazai was bringing up. He turned, levelled Dazai with his best glare, if only to hide how _cold_ that question made him feel.

"Seriously? That was months ago, move on already."

But Dazai only smiled wide, as though Chuuya had said something particularly enlightening. He walked forwards until he was very much in Chuuya's space, crowding him up against the counter, not seeming to care that Chuuya had a sharpened knife in grabbing distance.

"It's rude to deflect questions like that, chibi~"

"You're the only one I know that thinks that's rude" Chuuya huffed, turning back to the potatoes so he didn't have to look at Dazai's face. He started to chop again, cutting the potatoes down to thin slivers. Dazai had been smiling but it hadn't quite reached his eyes, so Chuuya knew there was something going on here, some deeper meaning behind Dazai's question.

Something Chuuya wouldn't catch on to until it was too late, as always.

He could still remember it, how he'd gotten back from suppressing conflicts in the West, only to be told that they'd had _Dazai_ of all people in the basement. He'd rushed down there as soon as he'd heard. He'd hardly been able to believe it on the way down to the basement but sure enough Dazai had been right there, as annoying and manipulative as always. They'd engaged in their typical routine of insults and banter, but for Chuuya it had been sharpened by the edges of anger and betrayal.

And then Chuuya had let Dazai go. Of course he had; it wasn't like his capture had been ordered, it had just been Akatugawa being _petty_. He'd had to lecture the brat afterwards on using Kyouka for anything other than official missions - not that the Port Mafia had kept Kyouka for long, after that.

Chuuya sighed at the memories. It had been a darker time, then, for the both of them_. Fine_. He'd answer Dazai's stupid question.

"If you must know, no, it wouldn't have been me. That wouldn't be- it just wouldn't have worked. Maybe Gin or something, fuck if I know." And then Chuuya frowned as he recalled all the conversations he, Dazai and Mori had shared in the past.

He turned back to Dazai, realisation slowly starting to creep in, settling in his chest. "You.. you already know Mori would never choose to torture you, yeah? If he'd wanted information he'd just ask you the questions himself."

Dazai grinned at that and Chuuya cursed because of _course_ Dazai already knew that, he'd been the unofficial star of the intel gathering division for _years_. There would always be some targets that reacted far better to words than pain and Dazai knew that better than most.

"Yes, I knew, I just wanted to see what Chuuya would say~"

Chuuya jabbed at him with the kitchen knife but Dazai was already back on the couch, staring at Chuuya with that same smug smile on his face. Chuuya knew that he should probably be more angry over the fact that Dazai had just clearly manipulated him, but by now he'd come to expect it. The light was back in Dazai's eyes now, too - a playful, lighthearted thing. Good. He hated to see that light disappear.

"What about you then?" Chuuya almost rolled his eyes as Dazai tilted his head in confusion, because of _course_ the waste of bandages couldn't fathom someone asking his secretly deep and meaningful question back to him. "If the ADA caught me and torture was their thing would you do it, or someone else?"

Dazai frowned and stared past Chuuya's head at some point around the kitchen cupboard, silent. Chuuya was worried for a moment before he realised Dazai wasn't having some horrible flashback, was just thinking. Because of all people it would of course be Dazai who'd try to come up with a logical solution to a question like that.

"The right answer is "someone else", you know." Chuuya's words were dry and Dazai laughed, nodding in enthusiastic agreement.

"Oh, I'm sure it is! But realistically I don't think anyone at the agency would have the stomach for it, besides me. Fukuzawa _maybe_, but he's softer than he likes to admit."

Dazai hummed in thought, before flashing Chuuya a brilliant smile that never failed to take his breath away "Of course, I'd probably chicken out and just let you go, because it's Chuuya."

Chuuya was touched. He'd half expected some detached analysis on what methods Dazai would use, or perhaps an assurance that if Chuuya _was_ caught and tortured by the ADA, Dazai would use his most effective tricks to make it quick.

"C'mere, stupid mackerel." Chuuya laughed at Dazai's rather undignified squeak as he was grabbed by the sleeve of his sweater, pulled in until Chuuya could kiss him. It was a quick, sweet thing and soon Chuuya had turned back to cooking, working diligently to prepare their dinner in a reasonable amount of time.

That only lasted for seven minutes. Chuuya couldn't help but ask more questions. It was something of a rarity to hear such openly heartfelt, emotive comments from Dazai, and Chuuya wasn't about to let this opportunity pass by.

"So you'd really let me go, then? Even with your reputation?"

He heard the telltale noises behind him of Dazai perching himself on the arm of the couch, but decided he'd let it go. Just this once. "Mm, they were all just people. Soon to be dead people, for the most part. But you're Chuuya."

Dazai said that like that explained everything and Chuuya supposed, in a way, it did. Dazai wouldn't torture him, purely because he didn't want to hurt Chuuya. Even if his precious agency demanded it.

Chuuya felt something in his heart swell, and then he frowned, because he'd just picked up on a second much less romantic insinuation hidden in Dazai's earlier words.

"Hey, are you saying I chickened out that last time? Seriously mackerel, would you have _rather_ I stabbed you?" Chuuya turned, kitchen knife in hand and Dazai laughed at him, holding his hands up in mock defence.

"No, no! I'm just saying that Chuuya was sweet to let me go. Better than leaving me to deal with Mori's inevitable bullshit if I'd stayed."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at that. It was strange; when Dazai had been a member of the Port Mafia he'd spoken of Mori with what had always sounded like respect, or the Dazai equivalent of respect at the very least. Recently he seemed to be expressing nothing but open disdain for the man. "You really hate Mori, huh?"

Dazai's face twisted into something dark and bitter, then. A shift of expression, jarring in its suddenness "Oh Chuuya, you don't know the half of it. You don't _want_ to know." his voice was darker than his eyes.

Chuuya was grateful that he was allowed to witness such a shift in Dazai's ever indifferent masks. That gratitude was caught between the chill that ran up his spine, settled at the back of his neck. It was moments like this one that reminded Chuuya of how _terrifying_ Dazai could be.

"I don't, huh?" Dazai nodded, gravely serious and Chuuya nodded with him, finally setting the kitchen knife down on the worktop. There were no more potatoes to cut now, anyway.

"Maybe I do, though? Maybe it'll even make me hate Mori like you do, make me question my loyalty." Dazai looked surprised. Clearly he'd expected Chuuya to just drop the subject, stop talking. "It'd be worth it, though. To know about what could make you feel like _this_."

Dazai stared at him, gaze considering, as though he'd genuinely never expected this from Chuuya. Chuuya might have been offended if it was anyone else, but the one thing Dazai had never been good at anticipating was the possibility of other people caring for him.

When Dazai spoke his words were careful, measured. "You would've loved it, if you'd known when we were younger. You would've thought I was getting everything I deserved."

"Maybe." Chuuya wasn't so self assured that he'd doubt it. Dazai had been terrible when they were younger and Chuuya had been every bit as bitter and angry in return. "Things change, people change. I didn't love you then, did I?"

"No." A smile, the softest he'd ever seen grace Dazai's lips. "No, you didn't"

They shared in the moment and then Chuuya turned back to the stove, continuing his work on dinner. He sautéed the potatoes and started mixing beef, boiling some vegetables to go with it. He started working on stock for the sauce but paused as he felt the tingle of breath on the back of his neck, raising the hair there. Then long arms wrapped around him, encircling his body, somehow strong and firm despite how skinny Dazai was. The warmth of a chest pressed against his back and Chuuya could have sworn he could feel Dazai's heart beating, even through the layers of clothing that separated them.

"Maybe one day I'll tell you." Dazai spoke finally, voice a gentle murmur in Chuuya's ear "but not today."

"No." Chuuya turned, pressing his lips against Dazai's. The kiss was gentle, over in moments but it was everything they needed. He stared into brown eyes that had once been cold, terrifying in their numbness. Now those same eyes stared back at him full of warmth, light. Love.

"No. Not today."


End file.
